


Not the First, Won't be the Last

by hato



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Fluff and Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Triple Drabble
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-20
Packaged: 2018-10-29 04:12:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10846227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hato/pseuds/hato
Summary: Steve is crying. Tony is not dying. Maybe. Probably not.





	1. This Happens Too Often

**Author's Note:**

  * For [frackin_sweet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/frackin_sweet/gifts).



> Literally a dream fueled by allergy meds and a Marvel-verse binge. Pure venting of excessive fangirl feels. And for frack, because I doubt I'd have gotten beyond the Thor movies if not for her influence<3

Steve is crying.

Tony knows this before he even thinks about getting his eyes open. Before he registers the sounds of recent destruction dying around him or the painful itch of sweat and broken skin burning across his body within the suit. Before he comes to the realization that he is lying on the ground, helmet gone, pinned beneath a solid weight. 

Steve is crying. 

Tony floats slowly up through the watery numbness, various sensations ebbing and flowing with his growing awareness. He vaguely remembers the who. A bit more about why. But the details are blurred. Though there is a ridiculously clear memory of Natasha and Wanda singing 80s pop songs so he’s calling probable concussion here. 

Steve shouldn’t cry.

Tony forces his arm to move, to lift his hand. His heavy-as-lead, stubbornly unresponsive hand. He blinks slowly, the dim shape atop him eventually morphing into the back of a messy blonde head and a big blue shoulder shaking silently. No, not silently. There’s a ragged breathing, muffled and widely spaced, bookending the strained pauses that seem louder than the choked off sobs and distant explosions. 

Steve should never cry.

Tony watches his metal clad hand climb the impossibly steep slope of padded blue until his fingers touch that crazy patch of sweat soaked hair at Steve’s crown. ‘ ‘Sokay, Rogers.’ God, his voice sounds awful. ‘ ‘Salright.’ Tony carefully smooths the bent head and mutters an occasional reassurance and idly thinks that it’s probably not very comfortable being petted by an armored glove, but Steve isn’t complaining. Though he is crying harder, in deep hitching breaths. And Tony closes his eyes as the sirens get louder and the pain begins to scream and he smiles because he can feel the body shifting above him and the warm wet cheek pressing against his own. 

Steve should definitely never cry over him. 

But maybe, just this once, Tony can let it slide.


	2. Black Olives, Mushrooms, & Italian Sausage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post battle pizza makes it all better. Almost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Doesn't necessarily occur directly after Ch.1, but it could have. Anything's possible.

Tony lets his head rest back against the wall.

And reaches for his second slice of pizza. 

It’s hot and greasy and Thor’s and Tony takes a moment to appreciate the spicy flavor before it’s drowned beneath a wave of ice cold cola. Pure freaking bliss. He closes his eyes and sighs. Takes another drink before putting the can down and retrieving his slice from the neighboring plate. A frown. A small bite. A quiet noise of frustration as he turns and presses his aching forehead against the wall.

Images, thoughts, memories. Invasive flashes that he does his best to wave away as soon as they come to him. The last few hours are the most persistent, of course. Medical bay visits. Mechanical repairs. Brief debriefing, ha ha. Press conference. Debriefing, debriefing, debriefing... 

Everyone is okay. Crisis averted. Kudos all around. Just another Tuesday. 

Then everyone wandering back to their labs and lairs and dimensions and wherever the hell Hawkeye disappears to when they’re in between missions while Steve shakes his head apologetically and stays behind with the SHIELD analysts and Tony shuffles back to his personal suite of rooms. 

Alone. 

He shoves the rest of the pizza into his mouth and picks up the third slice. 

Alone is fine, because it’s not like he’s really up for anything energetic. Like sex or conversation or blinking. Just eating and showering and eventually falling into his bed. Alone. Because he doesn’t need anyone’s company. Of course, not. No one’s. Especially Steve’s. Nope. He doesn’t need that annoying brow arch or irritating shoulder shrug or that-

‘ Why are you eating in the shower?’ That absolutely infuriating put-upon sigh.

Tony swallows and turns his head to peek at Steve’s feet standing at the door of the large walk-in shower. The hot spray from the overhead hits an open cut on his neck and Tony side steps just enough to move the pressure further along his shoulder. His elbow bumps along the smooth smoke-colored tiles of the recessed shelf. ‘ Because I am filthy, hungry, and exhausted. And only two of those conditions can be remedied simultaneously, therefore shortening the time it takes to remedy the third.’ He gestures toward the plate of pizza sitting next to his shampoo bottles. ‘ There’s some left in the oven. Should still be hot.’ 

He pauses, waiting with the tiny hope that Steve will choose cleanliness over nutrition. But there’s nothing other than the dull thrum of the shower and when Tony glances back he sees that he is, once again, alone. 

Tony shrugs off the hint of disappointment. Steve’s metabolism is pretty high, after all. Food comes first, of course. Only natural. Tony stares at the beads of moisture collecting on the tile, dribbling slowly down to puddle under his drink can. Collecting in a lonely, depressing pool of resignation. 

A loaded plate slides next to his own. A big sweaty body blocks some of the spray. 

‘ How does this work?’ Steve sips from a frosted bottle of root beer. He expression is playfully dubious. 

‘ In a complicated series of steps that only an expert, such as myself, can safely navigate.’ Tony drops his half eaten pizza onto his plate and wipes his hand on a wet cloth. A generous dollop of his favorite shampoo smears between his palms. A stupidly affectionate smirk curves his mouth.‘ Since you’re new to this, I’ll be nice and let you eat while I do the cleaning.’ 

Steve’s smile, stretched around an obscenely large bite of pizza, is everything Tony needs...

Until he has the energy to tap that well toned ass. 

Tomorrow. Definitely tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to everyone who reads/kudos/comments!!!

**Author's Note:**

> One can certainly read it as Tony's last thoughts as he lay dying, but honestly I intended for him to just be very knocked about and Steve's tears are caused by relief. I'm not really in the deathfic mindset at the moment, lol. 
> 
> Many thanks to everyone who reads/kudos/reviews!!!


End file.
